Surviving Valencia

“Do you want to hear how my book report ends? Because there is kind of a twist to it.”

“I’m talking in the grander scheme of things. Do you think you’re responsible for what happened to your siblings? I mean, do you think you are responsible for what happened to your brother and sister?”

“I know what siblings means.”

“Okay. I know that. Sorry about that, Kiddo. Of course you know what siblings means.”

“Anyone over the age of seven knows what it means. Not to mention, it’s an expression I’ve heard a lot.”

“As I was trying to say, do you think you’re responsible somehow?”

“Well, I did put banana peels on that bridge…”

“Now we’re getting somewhere! I’m giving you permission to let go of that guilt. It wasn’t your fault. It was not your fault! I’m your friend and you can believe me.”

Never joke with these people.

Sessions with Dave lasted my entire sophomore year, and I feared they would be a part of the rest of my high school curriculum. Along with being ridiculous and gross, they marked me as a loser. Whenever I slid that orange hall pass across the desk, someone always snickered. It never got old. Then to my surprise on the last Thursday of the school year, Dave announced that I was “fine” and wouldn’t need to see him the next year.

“Unless you feel you’d like to keep up with our sessions,” he said.

“Dave, I’m going to get my driver’s license soon.”

He looked at me blankly, not getting it. What I was trying to say is that I had bigger fish to fry.

“Well, the school’s closed during summer months. Of course,” he said. “So if you do need me, just try to hold on until fall.”

I handed him my stack of leftover orange slips of paper.

“Thanks,” he said. “Save a tree!”

“Bye, Dave. Thanks for your help.”

He saluted me with his Fort Worth Stockyards mug and took a lukewarm sip.

Chapter 49

“So this is what we’re going to do,” said Adrian, who had smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in four hours.

“I’m listening,” I said, trying to appear calm. There is so much I don’t know about you, I was thinking, as I watched my non-smoking husband light one off the tip of another, over and over.

“You are taking my car to Atlanta. You are going to stay there for three nights. I already booked the room. You stay in the room and everything you order, you order in twos. In the morning you can go out and pick up some coffee and a paper or whatever, but you buy two coffees and you use your credit card so there is a nice, traceable record of it.”

“But you don’t usually have coffee. You have juice,” I pointed out.

“Right,” he said. He sucked in on his cigarette, shaking his head at his carelessness.

“And I’m not supposed to be drinking all this coffee since I’m pregnant.”

“Good point. Get juice for me. Get whatever you want for yourself. Now remember, when you order room service you need to at least pick at it all, right Honey? Don’t just push the cart back in the hall with my meal on it. You’re eating for two though, so it shouldn’t be hard to have a little extra. Okay, all you have to do is lay low. Don’t walk around the hotel much because there are cameras. And don’t go in the pool, whatever you do, because there are always cameras in there! Just stay in the room as much as possible. And use the peephole! Don’t answer the door unless you absolutely have to. I think actually you should order just dinner, no lunch, so there’s less coming and going. Could you do that? You’ll be eating two meals, is it okay with you if they are both dinner?”

“Yes. What are you going to do, Adrian? How are you going to find him?”

His eyes met mine for the first time in what felt like hours. For a brief moment they softened and once again became Adrian’s eyes. They seemed almost pleading. I felt my heart break. Then he looked away, inhaled, shrugged it off, and continued, “I’m taking your car since you never get the oil changed and there aren’t any current records of the mileage. Once I get there I will park it at the Mall of America, I think, and from there I am going to take a bus since a car with Georgia plates is going to stick out up there. At least it’s just an old Volkswagen. What if we had bought you a new car already? But we didn’t yet so we’re okay. And we cannot, do you understand me, cannot, call each other. People on vacation together don’t call each other. Plus, they can tell where cell phone calls are happening. Just don’t call me, okay? What else am I forgetting? Have you used our computer to search for John Spade or anything like that?”

“No. Adrian, what are you going to do?”

“The important thing is that I want you to relax and take care of the baby and yourself. On second thought, be sure not to watch those Lifetime movies all day. You should rent some pay-per-views. Some action movies, but mainly porn. Soft-core. Nothing too over-the-top or violent. Stay away from anything weird. It needs to look like I am there and we’re having a little getaway. I’m sure they can track that too. Yeah, keep the pay-per-views coming in case they check. Bring some books so you don’t get bored. Honey, you better start packing. Pack a bag for me too so you can leave it open by the door. You know what? Spray the room with my cologne too. I’m going to drop Frisky off at the kennel right now while you pack. I will be back in a half hour.” He set a baseball bat that appeared from out of nowhere in my hands. “Keep this with you. I’ll see you soon.”